Coward
by lishyu
Summary: A well-worn topic... What was Laguna thinking?


Disclaimer: I don't own FFVIII... wish i did.  
Set after Laguna bids Squall farewell in the cockpit of Ragnarock.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The irony of it all.  
  
He fought the terrible sorceress and was triumph.  
He reigned over the strongest country in the world for seventeen years - almost a dictator - and was still popular.  
  
Yet he had been so afraid, so terrified, mortified, of a two month old baby.  
  
He was a coward. Laguna Loire was a coward, a cheater, a back-stabbing lier.  
With a bravest son one could ever hope for.  
  
The irony.  
  
Son? Did he even have the right to call him that? Did he ever ¡®hope¡¯ for him¡¦?  
He didn¡¯t even have the courage to claim his son.  
  
He remembered the day he first heard of him.  
He had been his usual goofy, cheerful, merry little self while trying to reorganize the whole structure of the Estharian government.  
¡°Sir, I¡¯m very sorry to inform you that your wife, Mrs. Raine Loire has passed away two months ago, in childbirth.¡±  
THAT wiped the smile clean off his face.  
He was out of it for one whole month. One whole month to gather his wits together again. One whole month until he could see the ring on his finger without blinking away tears. One whole month until he remembered that he had a son.  
  
He was quick to track them down.  
It had not been hard - after all, he WAS the president of the strongest country in the whole world.  
Ellone and his baby son. In an orphanage.  
  
His first impulse had been to rush over to them and hug them so so tight - never let go.  
But then thoughts wondered in. He was a thinker. Always thinking.  
For the thousandth time he wished he¡¯d listened to his impulses rather than his thoughts.  
  
He thought about Ellone. What would Odin do to her if she came back?  
He thought about his baby son. How would he take care of that little squirming thing which would no doubt require constant attention?  
Most of all, he thought about Raine. His dear, dear wife Raine.  
Raine who he never got back to.  
Raine who he never thought about enough to reunite.  
Raine who named her - their - son, Leonheart.  
Not Loire.  
Never Loire.  
  
¡¦He thought about what he did to her. How he just assumed that she¡¯d be there everyday. How he took her for granted. How he expected, damn it, Demanded, her to be there, waiting for him, for all those years.  
  
And that was her revenge. Her sweet revenge.  
Never Loire.  
  
And it hurt too. Gods, it hurt. His little son, His little Squall - except it wasn¡¯t his Squall. It was HER Squall.  
  
She hated him.  
  
  
.  
Laguna refused to think anymore after that. He refused to acknowledge the fact that he had a wife. A son. A daughter.  
Instead, he plunged himself into work. Did everything he could to protect Esthar - his city, from any harm. Any threat. Any danger.  
While his Son wailed for his father in a desolate orphanage, alone.  
  
  
  
No. He never deserved him.  
  
  
  
The second time he ¡®officially¡¯ heard of him, was from Ellone. His little Ellone, fleeing from what haunted him for years, straight into his arms.  
¡¦She told him all sorts of things about his little Squall. No, not little anymore. So old now¡¦ How did that small thing turn into something so¡¦ big?  
  
And so strong. His son had gained power, position, and fame.  
Commander of the only remaining garden, leader of the elite forces.  
  
Then he saw the real, live thing.  
His son, Squall.  
Going out into space to die.  
  
  
  
He didn¡¯t recognize him of course. The ignorance had been mutual.  
But after landing safely in Esthar; after arriving safely in the president¡¯s palace; after relaxing into the soft chair and listened to the list of ¡®presumed dead¡¯ - He madly wished he could turn back time, and had grabbed onto his son¡¯s arms at that passing moment.  
  
Never, Never Let Go.  
  
  
  
  
  
News came fast of his son¡¯s survival. Alive! He could have cried right there and then. He couldn¡¯t understand it. A son he never even looked in the eye properly. A son who didn¡¯t even know his existence. How could he fear for him, care for him, so much?  
  
But he hadn¡¯t the courage to reach out. Not after so long.  
  
So he waited. Kiros saw him. Ward saw him. They described his unruly dark hair. Lean figure. Tense composure. Beautiful icy eyes. The glacial gleam of Lionheart.  
  
  
  
He woke up in the dead of night by that dream, over and over again. The Silent Lionheart aimed straight at his throat.  
  
  
  
  
Everything spiraled out of control from that point on. Ministers¡¯ combined wisdom came up with Squall Leonheart¡¯s name as the only possible candidate to defeat Ultimecia.  
His citizens looking up to him for yet another crazy idea that will drive away the sorceress.  
The whole world, expecting the greatest country on earth to rid them of this latest doom.  
  
What choice did he have?  
  
Watching his son¡¯s back as the stoic figure walked out of the Ragnarock, he tried to console himself.  
Squall will come back a hero. Squall will be loved by everyone, worshipped as the Saviour. Squall would gain fame, money, everything he could ever wish for.  
Squall will   
  
Squall will die.  
  
He froze solid there, standing in the cockpit of the empty gigantic warship.  
He just sent his son off to die. He just sent his son off to fight a sorceress who virtually wiped out the whole future world population. What if he loses an arm, a leg, or worse, a head?  
  
What if he never get to hold him?  
  
  
  
  
Face drained of color, Laguna crumbled down onto the floor. Kiros and Ward quickly rushed to his sides.  
¡°Laguna? What¡¯s wrong?¡±  
¡°No-nothing, Nothing¡¦ Nothing¡¯s wrong¡¦ha¡¦¡±  
  
Barely able to contain neither his laughter nor his tears - Laguna thought, once again.  
A son he may never get to hold.  
A son he may never get to claim.  
  
¡°Laguna!¡±  
  
He will claim his son. He will tell the whole world whose he is. He will tell Squall who his father is.  
  
¡¦then he will apologise.  
  
  
¡°Laguna!¡±  
  
Apologise for his ignorance.  
Apologise for his stupidity.  
Apologise for his god damn cowardliness.  
  
  
  
¡°Laguna, what¡¯s wrong with you?¡±  
Then¡¦  
Holding desperately onto that last gleaming hope, he dared to look forward.  
  
  
  
Maybe then¡¦  
  
  
  
  
  
  
- father  
  
  
  
  
  
¡¦¡¦come back soon, Squall.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
--- 


End file.
